


Cat's Outta the Bag

by MarbleAide



Series: A bit confused and a little bit bruised (Catlad!Tim) [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Catlad, F/M, Jason Todd is Robin, M/M, Making Out, Secret Identity, Tim Drake is Catlad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 03:59:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4651398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarbleAide/pseuds/MarbleAide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim’s a little dick, Jason needs to get his dick under control, and both Bruce and Selina need to control their kids, seriously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cat's Outta the Bag

**Author's Note:**

> SO a lot of people wanted this to have a sequel, which I'm finally getting around to doing and turning it into a full series with the third part about halfway done. 
> 
> Hope you like it as the plot thickens!

When he gets back to the cave, Batman gives him a lecture on being Robin and Bruce gives him a lecture that sounds almost like he’s actually Jason’s dad. It’s strange, being told to follow orders while also being told about ‘falling for the wrong person’. Jason wants to ask about Bruce and Selina’s relationship and whether she’s the ‘wrong person’, but he’s not that mad at him. He’ll save it for another day, because he’s not benched just yet, but he’s warned and Jason’s forced to give up his half-empty pack of cigarettes stuffed in his utility belt before he’s allowed to shower and go to sleep. 

It’s not an easy sleep that comes, and that’s mostly because of Stray. Normally, Jason’s up late thinking about the night that just past, about whether he’d performed well or if Bruce was proud, but tonight all he can thinking about is a skintight suit and if a real date is even possible seeing as he still only knows the other with a mask on. Rooftop dinners sound romantic, but the affect might be ruined if they’re both still in their uniforms, plus there’s always the issue of Jason needing to arrest Stray every once in a while... 

Jason keeps wondering and, at some point he falls asleep, wakes up from a dream and has to slide his hand down the front of his pajamas because of it before he can close his eyes again, and even then his eyelids are still painted with images of Stray with his zipper down, mouth open, back arched. Jason wonders what he’ll sound like and wonders what he looks like in the morning and if he prefers chocolate over vanilla and wonders if this is what Bruce meant by the ‘wrong person’. 

\---

Jason doesn’t see Stray the next night, or the night after that. Even if Stray did come out, Jason’s not sure their paths would have crossed seeing as Batman and Robin are busy dealing with the aftermath of the Penguin’s meeting getting interrupted. They’ve got to track down the weapons and where the Penguin’s gone and by the end of the week, Jason’s tired and sore all over. They’ve got the weapons, but the Penguin’s still MIA, but Batman says they’ll deal with that another night as he pats Jason’s shoulder and send him up to bed. The main threat has been taken care of and Jason deserves to sleep in, it’s Saturday tomorrow after all.

He does get to sleep in, but the relaxing Saturday he has planned of ignoring any and all homework he has in favor of watching tv and laying out on the law for naps is completely ruined when Alfred finds him just after his afternoon breakfast to mention he’s supposed to be at one of the Wayne Foundation charity events tonight—something Bruce apparently forgot to mention, probably because he knew how much Jason hated them. He doesn’t go to them very often, but ones that directly involve children Jason’s usually at—Bruce bringing his ward to show how much he cares looks good to donors. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth, being shown off and paraded around like a trained monkey in a suit, but he gets it and doesn’t argue too much.

At the very least, Bruce doesn’t object when he drinks a few glasses of expensive champagne. It’s something like payment, Jason figures, and it helps him smile a little brighter at all the rich dicks staring at him the entire night. 

Still, when the time comes and he has to dress up, Jason does grimace at himself in the mirror for a full ten minutes, at least. The big mansion of a house was a big enough change from getting off the streets, but this sort of stuff—suits that could have fed him for a full year easily—he never gets used to. He’s suggested to Bruce a few times that he would be fine wearing slacks and a button up, donate the money they would have bought the suit with to whatever charity or orphanage he wanted, but Bruce said appearances were important. Jason does now, however, that when Bruce did buy the suit, he made a second check out to a children’s charity so Jason wouldn’t feel too horrible about wearing it. 

He’s still staring in the mirror when Bruce knocks on his door and honestly at this point Jason has no idea how long he’s been staring at himself, but he can feel the way his brow relaxes when Bruce comes into the room. 

“You just need to shake some people’s hands and smile, don’t let it get to you.” Bruce’s voice is calming as he walks over and fixes Jason’s tie for him. “There might be some dancing involved too.”

“Oh god, I hate dancing.” Jason groans, smacks Bruce’s hands away when he starts to go for Jason’s hair because that is where he draws the line. He’ll dress up however Bruce wants him to, but there’s no way he’s getting his hair to do any of that cute curl thing anymore—he grew out of that when he was fifteen. 

“I’m not too fond of it all either. Just signal me if it gets too much, okay?”

Jason takes a deep breath, puts on something that looks like a smile. “Okay.” 

\---

It takes about twenty minutes for Jason to get uncomfortable when they arrive, but it’s not for the reasons he’s used to. 

Ever since he stepped into the conference hall-turned-ballroom at the Gotham Children’s Museum, Jason’s felt on edge. Someone was watching him, he knew, could feel the way they stared at him and it wasn’t the usual people staring at Bruce Wayne’s ward, it was…intense. Unnerving. A burning sensation at the back of his neck that, when turned to look, he couldn’t place where the eyes were coming from or who they belonged to. It made Jason tense the entire night, barely able to focus on the small bits of conversation he was forced in to. A glass of champagne sat in his hand, but it went untouched until the liquid was warm and all the bubbles within gone, not wanting to lose his edge if something actually happened—if someone attacked him and he needed to turn into some form of Robin fast. 

An hour and a half passed before Jason got any sort of lead even though he was practically glaring at every single person who walked by him. At some point he backed himself up into a corner, reducing the areas that someone could sneak up on him, and continued to scope out everyone at the party while faking sip after sip from his glass. 

The answer of where the eyes came from took nearly two hours for him to figure out, and when he did Jason was taken back. He got a pit in his stomach when his eyes met a pair straight across the room from him, unwavering and bright. 

The eyes—a cool blue like the ocean, though sharp and knowing that didn’t quite match up with the face—belonged to a boy. Or rather a teenager, not too much younger then Jason himself, but much shorter in stature, smaller in the shoulders. Jason blinked, having not even realized someone else below the age of twenty-five was even present at the event, let along someone in Jason’s own age range. 

The other stood directly across from him and as soon as their eyes met, the kid smiled. It didn’t take long for Jason to realize he was now getting closer to him, walking across the floor like everything Jason wasn’t. He looked confident and comfortable in the tailored suit he wore, smiled easily at anyone who stepped in front of him, and seemed to know the perfect excuse when someone tried to stop him and talk. 

It would be awe inspiring to watch if Jason wasn’t suddenly so creeped out. 

“Jason Todd, it’s nice to meet you.” The kid says as soon as he’s within range of Jason enough to stick his hand out and have it seem like a friendly gesture. Jason doesn’t immediately take it, but then quickly remembers he’s supposed to be personable and not be suspicious of a fifteen year old.

Jason puts on something of a half-smile before shaking the other’s hand. “Right, and you are…?” 

“Oh, forgive me,” He laughs and it sounds perfectly charming, a soft sort of airy sound that makes Jason actually want to hit the kid at first. “I’m Tim. Tim Drake. Can I get you another drink? You’ve been holding the same one since you got here and champagne is horrible warm.” 

“You’ve been watching me?” Jason asks, pulling his hand away as quickly as he can without seeming rude. 

The kid, Tim, is practically grinning. “Possibly. You’re honestly the most interesting person here in my opinion and it’s not like I get to see people our age very often.”

That all sounds true, but it also sounds like the most obvious lie Tim could tell, something that is perfectly reasonable; believable. Jason’s uneasy, but refuses to show it. He’s not sure exactly what Tim’s intentions are, but there’s something about him that isn’t quite right. Jason’s been in a few ‘kidnap Bruce Wayne’s kid for ransom money’ scenarios in the past years of being under Bruce’s care, so it’s easy to get suspicious. Still, he can’t act on any of his suspicions just yet, if anything is actually up.

“You come to events like this often?” Jason asks as he follows Tim through the crowd to the nearest server to swap out his glass of champagne for another with Tim picking up one as well. 

“I wouldn’t use the word ‘often’, but I do whenever it is convenient,” Jason really didn’t like the way he said ‘convenient’, like there was something Tim was trying to gain out of this—and it wasn’t the usual rich couples flaunting their looks and money around. “Always hard on school nights, you know?” 

Tim’s expression shifts to something that’s easier, familiar. He looks a lot more like a kid in high school with that smile instead of trying to look like some sort of would-be mob boss. Jason’s not entirely sure it’s on purpose, but it makes Tim actually look like he’s a teenager, someone Jason wouldn’t mind talking to during these sort of parties, and it makes him feel just a little bit bad for judging Tim so quickly. 

Just a bit. 

“That’s always the best excuse though,” Jason says and takes a small drink from his flute of champagne when Tim does. “Completely true and you don’t have to leave the house.”

Tim laughs a little bit at that, hiding the sound behind his hand when he can, which makes Jason relax a little bit more. “You really don’t look comfortable in that suit.” 

“Ugh, it’s that obvious?” Jason’s tugging at the collar of his shirt out of reflex. “They say ‘tailored’ and it just feels like you’re being choked the entire time.” 

“You have to relax,” Tim’s still smiling, moving a little closer to put his hand to Jason’s shoulders, pressing until Jason gets the hint and lets his shoulder drop ever so slightly, Tim’s hand easing down to smooth out the crease. 

Jason doesn’t realize how close Tim is until he looks up from the hand still not quite away from his person, eyes locking with the other’s and this time around they’re much closer and Jason can see just how blue they actually are, liquid deep to the point that Jason gets lost in them for a moment, drifts off along with his thoughts and thinks he’s seen that gaze on him before in another scenario, another situation, with the moon in the sky and gravel under his boots and—

“See? Much better,” Tim’s voice breaks through Jason’s thoughts and the image in his head dies, replaced with Tim staring up at him with that same cocksure quip up on his lips. This time around, it looks a little bit better, more teasing, matches the crinkle at his eyes. 

Jason swallows. “Thanks.” He takes a step back quickly, making space between them as his eyes start to dart around for Bruce to tell him he wants his way out now. “I, ah, gotta—“

“Are you coming to the brunch next Sunday?” Tim asks before Jason can manage to dart off. “It’s not as formal as all this and I’d love to have company below the age of thirty—“

“I’ll talk to Bruce about it.” Jason replies without really thinking, makes it sound like too much of a promise, and Tim’s sort of beaming at him now and he knows for a fact there’s no way he’ll be able to get out of this one and why the hell should he even care at all he just met this kid and—

“Jason?” The voice behind him and the hand on his shoulder is comforting. It feels like a safety net is strung up underneath him now and he can breathe easier. In front of him, Tim looks a little stiff, leans back for a moment and Jason wonders about that.

“Bruce, hi, I was just talking to…”

“Tim Drake,” Tim interrupts his air of cool and collect right back where it started and Jason easily steps aside to let the two of them shake hands. 

“Drake, you say?” That sounds like Bruce’s polite business voice, which makes Jason pay a little bit more attention because he’s using it on a teenager instead of board members. “Give my best to your father, I’m afraid I haven’t seen him in a while.” 

“Of course, Mr. Wayne. And I was just talking to Jason about—well, possibly being company for me during next week’s Mayoral brunch?” Tim asks almost shyly which only makes him look even younger and Jason wondering how many different versions of himself he’s able to pull off. It’s slightly disturbing. 

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Bruce claps Jason on the back and it immediately makes Jason groan, wanting to smack himself in the face for how much of a dad Bruce sounds right now. “I’ve been meaning for him to get out of the house more often.” 

Jason groans again, downs the rest of his champagne when Tim laughs. 

“Perfect, it’s a date then.”

And, at that, Jason nearly chokes. 

\---

Jason doesn’t get Tim. No, really. He’s got about five different personalities that don’t really match up and it’s pretty scary to watch him jump from one to another in no time at all. He’s got this confident sort of businessman persona—something Jason finds out is normal when he asks Bruce about Tim’s dad, how he knows either of them, and learns Tim’s father is a wealthy businessman in Gotham, has his own company mainly dealing in computers and medical technology, as well as shares in most major companies around the world. About three years ago, however, him and his wife took a vacation that turned south quickly. It left Tim motherless and his dad in wheelchair, depression settling over him on most days, so much of the business dealings had been turned over to board members and surprisingly enough, Tim. 

Besides the businessman, Tim also plays up his looks; knows how to manipulate his face into making people blush or smile at him. He’s charming, shy when needed, and bats his eyelashes to get what he wants, not above letting his fingers graze someone’s wrist for emphasis. 

Jason finds he sees a mixture of them all while sitting next to him during brunch. This time around, he’s not wearing a suit thankfully, dressed down in a button-up and slacks. Tim’s in much of the same, though he wears a dark vest over his shirt, making him look a little bit taller, leaner, so more times than not Jason finds himself staring. 

Through it all, he likes what he refers to as ‘Normal Tim’ the most. It’s when he’s able to capture his attention fully and away from any topic that might revolve around the business world or other people around them. Mostly, they talk about school and how Jason’s jealous Tim goes to a public school instead of the Academy like Jason. When Jason mentions he’s taking French and hating it, Tim snickers and talks to him in only French for the next fifteen minutes, making Jason grumble and laugh and shove at him to stop. 

There’s times when some of the other people around them stare, these moments normally end with Tim’s hand over his mouth trying to hold in laughter and Jason shoving a fork full of food into his mouth to cover up his own grin. 

It’s actually really nice, Jason thinks, enjoyable even, to the point that he doesn’t mind when potential investors start talking to him, asking him random questions about Bruce and inappropriate ones about either of their personal lives. Sometimes, when it gets too much and Jason can’t think of a good excuse to get out of it, Tim steps in and takes over, brushes his fingers at the back of Jason’s palm as if to say ‘it’s okay’ before somehow completely changing the topic of conversation at the drop of a hat. It makes shivers run up Jason’s spine, how completely in control Tim can be, and how he actually really loves it.

\---

“You’re distracted by something,” Stray states right after Jason nearly got cut to ribbons by his claws. There’s already two matching sets of claw marks in his cap and another at his leggings, the skin opened up and still bleeding where he nicked him. “Should I maybe tell Daddy Bat you need more time in the nest?”

Jason gives a low growl and strikes back, to which Stray easily dodges with a laugh. On the next rooftop over, Batman’s dealing with his own crazy cat, though Catwoman hasn’t gotten any lucky blows in just yet. They look more like they’re doing their seduction fighting, which means Jason tries not to look as much as possible. 

“Oh you really are distracted! Is it a girl? Should I be jealous?” Stray stands a few yards from Jason for a moment, inspecting his claws before licking at one sharp point, cleaning any stray traces of blood from it. 

Jason tries his hardest not to stare, but does so anyway and mentally thinks he wants to watch Stray lick the rest of his claws clean—have Stray cut him up all night so there’s more of a mess for him to lap up. 

It’s fucked up. It’s fucked up as soon as Jason thinks it, but the thought still comes and there’s almost immediately a feeling of guilt inside his stomach as he pictures Tim and Christ they aren’t even anything and he’s starting to fall hard. Honestly, he needs to learn better. 

“It’s none of your business!” Jason pulls out his staff and runs at Stray hard, throwing a batarang before he closes their distance to force Stray to dodge it, letting an opening come so he can slam his staff into Stray’s back. 

Stray turns the fall into a tumble, rolling and popping up back onto his feet like it was nothing. He’s smirking to cover up the pain in his back, Jason can tell by the way his shoulders hunch. “Hit a nerve? Are you taking her to the movies, try to put your arm around her in the dark?” 

“It’s not—“

“A girl?” Stray finished and Jason can’t help the slight blush that spreads over his cheeks. He shouldn’t care about that sort of stuff, seeing as two weeks ago he knew how Stray’s dick felt through his suit. But it wasn’t about that, it was in the way Stray said it, how he used the line to mock him, try to get under his skin, and it worked like a fucking charm and Jason was pissed. 

“He’s not—“

“Oh, no need to explain,” Stray cuts in again, jumps at Jason again and claws at him. Jason catches the blow with his staff, sparks flying for a moment as metal scraps against metal. They’re locked together, each pressing against the other, their bodies close. “I’m just happy I wasn’t barking up the wrong tree.” Stray leans in closer, sticks his tongue out and licks a wide strip across Jason’s bo staff. 

He jerks away quickly with the sudden rush of warmth flooding his suit. “What the fuck is your problem?!” Jason yells out, throwing another batarang in frustration that is easily knocked aside. 

“Maybe I just like watching your feathers get ruffled.” Strays laughs. “Maybe I just want to see how you tick.”

Jason lets out a cry, running at Stray once more and colliding with him, throwing blow after blow quickly against him, as fast as he can so at the very least Stray has bruises to remember this tomorrow. 

“Robin!” Batman calls out from the other rooftop. One of his hands is full of the bag of jewels he’s just snatched off Catwoman’s belt and Jason really doesn’t want to know how close he got to do that. “Control yourself!” 

He’s frustrated enough that his first thought is to throw the command right back at him, but Jason doesn’t want to deal with the consequences of that insult when they get back to the cave, so he pushes back and gets his breathing under control as quickly as possible. 

Stray, of course, doesn’t give him too much time as he’s suddenly right in front of Jason once more laughing at him. 

“Yes, Robin,” Stray reaches quickly and squeezes Jason’s crotch; his claws digging in uncomfortably even with the jock on. “Control yourself.”

Jason doesn’t have enough time to punch him square in the face like he wants to before the bastard is flipping out of his reach and diving off the rooftop. Looking over, Catwoman’s done much of the same except Jason’s pretty sure there was a kiss involved in her escape. Before Jason can run off to chase after them, Batman growls out ‘leave them’ which brings Jason to a fuming halt. 

That night, when they arrive back at the cave, Jason has to using the punching bag for a full hour before he’s able to calm down enough to head back up stairs. It’s to stop him from chain smoking two packs before the sun rose that morning and to work out more sexual frustration then he’d ever admit and still in the shower he has too many images of Stray popping up in his head to the point he turns the water to as cold as it can get and scrubs his body until it’s red. 

\---

“You’re distracted.” 

The phrase sort of makes Jason’s skin crawl, how Tim says the words, sounds too familiar in a way he doesn’t like. Tim’s just sitting across from him though, smiling in that sly way that’s grown charming with his head leaning against his hand. Jason clears his throat and tries to act cool, because he is distracted. His mind is still heavily on Stray and the fact that, in the morning, they found out it wasn’t just a bag of jewels the cat pair stole, but a stupid amount of pearls that added up quickly. It also doesn’t help that he can’t stop thinking about Stray grabbing his junk either and fuck, this isn’t technically a date, but he did come to the dinner party because Tim asked him to and that’s close enough to a date for Jason to know it’s rude to think of another guy during it. He blames it, however, on the fact that this charity dinner includes surf and turf—particularly that of lobster and some fancy cut of steak and Tim’s ordered just that with the most pleased expression on his face when he makes the first cut at the meat. 

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly, tries to throw a smile at Tim to deter him somehow, but Tim just quirks a brow at him which doesn’t help anything. 

“You’re way too stressed about whatever it is,” Tim sighs and pushes away from the table, standing. “Come on, let’s go dance.” 

Jason’s sputtering for an excuse too long to the point that Tim manages to drag him up out of his seat and has what Jason swears is a death grip on his wrist as he pulls him towards the dance floor. He can already feel people staring and sure Jason was confident in his own sexuality, but maybe not so much in front of a lot of old rich people who put a lot of money into Bruce’s various projects and charities and Jason dancing with a guy could really fuck that up if they decided they didn’t like what they saw. 

“How is this supposed to not stress me out?” Jason quips, eyes pretty much glaring around them as Tim settles them on the floor and puts Jason’s hands at his waist and his own at Jason’s shoulders. Their height difference is even more obvious now, with Tim being nearly a full head shorter than him and Jesus Christ, this kid needs to start eating his vegetables or something. 

“Relax,” Tim says in his ever calm voice, hands squeezing at Jason’s shoulders before he starts up moving, leading Jason for a few steps before Jason gets the hang of it and takes over, even if he does have to keep track of his feet by looking down every once in a while. “From what I’ve seen, you’re much more accepted then Bruce’s first ward, Dick Grayson.” Tim’s laughing softly, but the mention of Dick has Jason’s full attention. “There’s a few gossip magazines with pictures of him in close quarters with a prime minister’s daughter if I remember correctly. Besides, I doubt dancing with a boy would be as scandalous of some of Bruce’s explorations.” 

Tim smiles and somewhere to their left a camera goes off. Not as scandalous, sure, but still news and now there’s going to be pictures of them together with Tim looking put together and Jason looking slightly terrified and very uncomfortable up online in less than an hour. Lovely. 

“Relax,” Tim is saying again, his voice more forceful this time as he moves in a little bit closer to Jason, which honestly doesn’t make him relax anymore because Tim’s really close and he smells pretty good.

“Easy for you to say…”

There’s something in Tim’s eyes that gets sharper, flash, and suddenly Tim looks a little more dangerous this close up. He’s leaning closer to Jason, pulling him against him until their chests are touching, another camera flash goes off, and Tim’s whispering in Jason’s ear. “Want me to really give you a reason to be tense?” 

Jason doesn’t say anything; can’t. 

“Do you still where it?” Tim says right in Jason’s ear and he has no idea what the hell he’s talking— “Under your clothes…” Tim’s hand slides down from his shoulder, another camera flash, he plucks at one of the buttons at Jason’s shirt. “For quick changes…” Jason swallows thick and Tim’s eyes flicker, his lips curl at the edges and— “When the signal goes up?”

Tim pops the ‘p’ and Jason shoves him away. There’s another flash to his right and Jason winces with it, his ears ringing and his breathing coming in fast inhales. He’s not hyperventilating, but he’s close. 

Tim’s laughing and he wants to punch him in the fucking face. Tim’s still laughing with that damned smile on his lips as he turns on his heels towards the exit of the room, throwing a wink over his shoulder that makes Jason curse under his breath and follow quickly behind. 

Bruce isn’t at this dinner. He’s on some date with a model and there’s fifty different thoughts running through Jason’s head. He needs to call Oracle and have her do a background check on Tim Drake as deep as she can go and Jason really, really, really, needs to not panic and start assuming things, but it’s hard to do so when Tim’s standing at the end of the hall when Jason gets through the doors, wiggling his fingers at Jason in a manner that’s far too familiar and fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“What the hell are you talking about?!” Jason hisses as soon as he gets close enough to Tim, hand going around Tim’s arm, squeezes as hard as he dares to make sure Tim doesn’t run off. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to, the way he’s still relaxed and looking at Jason with excitement in his eyes. 

“I’m disappointed,” Tim’s voice has shifted from their dinner. It’s smoother, coy, ending as if on a purr and Jason hates himself because he’s had multiple dreams about that voice in the last few months. “You didn’t figure it out first. But, I can’t blame you. Not even Bruce figured it out. World’s greatest detective, right?” Tim grins now, his teeth pearly and sharp. “Or should I say Ba—“

“Don’t.” 

Jason squeezes Tim’s arm; Tim doesn’t wince. 

“What the fuck do you want, Stray?”

“Oh, so you can use codenames and I can’t? I’m hurt,” Tim bats his lashes and Jason’s pissed he didn’t see it before. All the other wears to hide his identity is goggles half the time and it should have been fucking obvious. “All I asked for was a date and you never delivered. So I had to take matters into my own hands.” 

“You’re insane!”

“I’m romantic,” Tim moves to press up against Jason, not even caring that he’s got a grip so tight on his arm that there’s bound to be a bruise tomorrow. “It’s not like I’ll tell. You don’t tell, I don’t tell. It’s a win-win.” 

Jason growled. “Until you blackmail—“

“Hey,” Tim snapped, glaring up at Jason now. “I’ve got just as much to lose as you do, except in your case you’re more likely to end up dead.”

He’s right. Tim would end up in jail, probably destroy his father’s company if anyone found out the little faux CEO was the thief Stray, but Jason and Bruce and everyone else they’re connected to? They’ve got more enemies then they can count. They’d be dead in a week or end up hiding out for the rest of their lives—they weren’t on the same terms, but it was close. 

“I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Wha—“

“Paparazzi needs their shot.” 

There’s point-two seconds where Jason gets to think what’s going on before Tim’s on his tiptoes and pressing his lips to his. It’s strange, because he knows he should be shoving him away, kicking the kids ass in the hallway and giving the paparazzi the story of the year—‘Wayne’s Ward Beats Drake Heir’—but he’s not and that in itself is a problem. 

Tim’s lips are soft. They press and Jason presses back after a moment, his grip at Tim’s arm loosening until Tim can slip free and lace his hands around Jason’s neck. Things get to be more after that.

Jason grabs Tim’s hips and kisses him, really kisses him, because they aren’t in costume, but they’ve been dancing this fucked up dance for months now and Jason’s got a thing or two he’d like to show; tell Tim exactly how irritating he finds him in his Stray persona. 

The kiss turns a little more brutal, Jason pushes until Tim’s back hits the wall and they’re kissing with more teeth and tongue, trying to bite until there’s blood and both of them want to draw it first.

It never gets that far. 

Tim pulls away and his lips are bitten red and the sight makes Jason thankful neither of them were wearing lipstick otherwise they’d both look a mess. Jason’s panting and Tim’s licking his lips and there’s the sound of camera’s snapping behind them and Jason really wants to kiss Tim again.

“Think that’s good enough for the morning edition?” Tim says in a hushed tone. 

A smile tugs its way onto Jason’s face. 

“Think so.” 

\---

“How’d you find out?” 

They’re sitting on the roof of a church, perched together on the same gargoyle statue. Tim’s got his goggles up and Jason’s smoking his second cigarette of the night. There’s a basket sitting next to Jason filled with random assortments of fruits and cheeses and crackers—Jason tried to pack it himself, but Alfred caught him and then proceeded to help him out, telling Jason that certain combinations went better together than others. It wasn’t a fancy candle light dinner, but Jason thinks it might be better this way. 

Tim’s got a strawberry stabbed up with his claws and is trying to figure out how to properly scoop out a bit of brie from the wedge Jason brought—it’s really adorable, Jason has to admit. 

“I went to the circus.” Tim says as if that answers all Jason’s questions, but when Jason is clearly very quiet and still very confused, Tim clarifies. “When I was…five. I went to Haly’s Circus and watched the Flying Graysons perform. Got a poster, autograph, picture too.” 

That’s not what Jason was expecting, but the smile on Tim’s face and the hand gestures added into his story telling were too good to stop. 

“But you know,” Tim pauses to lick his lips, pops a slice of peach into his mouth. “There’s only so many eleven year olds that can pull off the sort of moves Dick Grayson can. And I was a fan. Of him and Batman. So when Bats gets a kid sidekick who can flip through the air like the youngest of the Flying Graysons, well… two and two together. I’m a smart kid.” 

Hearing it told like that, Jason’s shocked. Shocked it’s so simple. Shocked some kid could figure it out after only seeing a circus performance then watching Robin fly through the air. It sounds stupidly easy and it nearly makes Jason reconsider his entire life—nearly. 

“Mm. Hope you know you’re gonna get added to some watch list now.” Jason says and Tim laughs at that, so much so he’s worried he might fall off the gargoyle and Jason will have to swoop down to catch him. 

Tim doesn’t fall though, contains his laughter as he holds his stomach. “Well I’d hope so, but I promise I won’t make it easy on the lot of you. Still like to get up to my nightly activities in the underworld.” 

Jason looks up at the sky, clouds covering up any trace of moon or stars that might manage to sneak through the Gotham smog. It’ll probably rain later tonight by the weight of the air; the damp taste when breathing in. He takes in a deep breath, tastes the rain, and breathes out. Thunder sounds off in the distance. Jason snatches up the raspberry Tim’s just about to pop in his mouth, relishes in the burst of flavor and the glaring pout on Tim’s face.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”


End file.
